I’ve been searching through old pencil memories
The few I ever wrote down
And somewhere in the notes there’s a song that I wrote
On the night that I first left this town
And I talked about distance my enemy
That fence that would keep me from home
All those friends far away, all those miles on a train,
All that time I’d be spending alone
And this one’s not for the travelers
It’s not for the ones who stayed
No this one’s for those I regret the most,
The ones who I let drift away
Now some voices sound natural on telephone
All those crackling words in my ear
All that binary talk, all the ones and the noughts
That kept us alive all these years
But for each name I kept in my calendar
There’s a dozen I’ve only just seen
There’s a glaze in their eye they can’t seem to hide
When they hug me and ask where I’ve been
And this one’s not for the bad times
It’s not for the golden days
No this one’s for those I regret the most,
The ones who I let drift away
And time…
Taught me nothing
You’d think all this time would help
Well it seems after 22 years you start to repeat yourself
And this one’s not for the travelers
It’s not for the ones who stayed
No this one’s for those I regret the most,
The ones who I let drift away
And this one’s not for the bad times
It’s not for the golden days
No this one’s for those I regret the most,
The ones who I let drift away